


Weak

by Ryuki



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 23:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuki/pseuds/Ryuki
Summary: Post-Chariot chapter for Julian’s route. Xixa is at the shop alone, fending off angst. Julian enters, angstily. Things get even angstier. Angst angst angst. Did I mention there’s some angst?





	Weak

Empty and cold, the magic shop hadn’t seen much in the way of customers all day. Xixa cursed the lack of customers. Lack of business meant her thoughts wandered and, right now, they wandered down to the docks. Xixa shut the memory out before it started, forcefully shoving a jar onto a cabinet shelf. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

Asra was gone, off to the palace, experimenting with a handful of concoctions to ease the Countess’s headaches. Alone, it was so easy for Xixa to dwell on dismal things.

The bell above the door jingled a song of salvation. She turned, a soft smile on her lips, to greet the newcomer. Her heart sputtered.

It was Julian.

“What are you doing here?” Her words came out soft and quick. The urge to run toward him, bury her face in his chest and melt into his body heat clawed through her limbs.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Julian couldn’t meet her gaze. His hand hovered near the doorknob, an evident battle to leave or stay wobbling through his thoughts. Even from across the store, Xixa could tell he was biting his bottom lip. When he spoke next, his words came strained, on the edge of tears, “I’m  _so_   _weak_.”

The bite of his last words painted the picture for Xixa. He was weak, pathetic. He had broken things off with Xixa to keep her safe and, here he was, fumbling back to her like a doddering puppy. Pain snaked up her chest, sinking into her heart. She didn’t think anything of the sort, but – Asra was right – Julian was his own worst enemy. Not simply a self-saboteur, but a self-deprecating vilifier.

She didn’t want him to have those feelings about himself.

“Just leave,” she heard herself saying. Her voice sounded distant to herself. They were words she didn’t want to let loose from her mouth, but deep down, she knew she had to. The sooner Julian left, the sooner they both could heal from their wayward… whatever they had.

Julian turned a wide eye toward her. Pain pinched his features. “Xixa?”

“ _Go_.” The word came out stiff and harsh. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but Xixa swallowed them down. She just had to tamp them down a few more seconds. Pain bit into her palms, her fingers curled into tight, white-knuckled balls. He’d sprint out that door, soon enough. Find a nice ale to drown himself in, at the Rowdy Raven. What mattered was she was “safe” in his mind. Right?

Unable to take the pained look on his face while her own heart throbbed, Xixa turned her back on him. She returned to putting stock away, fingers trembling. Finally, the bell above the door gave a forlorn jingle. Xixa paused, placing a glass bottle down as she held her breath. The door latched and a harsh sob erupted from her throat, wracking her whole body. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as cold grief settled in her chest. How could one man trigger such drastic emotions in her?

She pressed a hand to her mouth, muffling her cries. Unbearable heat licked across her face as she pulled her elbows tighter to her body. She attempted to contain herself, control herself, but cracked under intense emotion.

Suddenly, firm hands grasped her shoulders from behind, forcing her to spin around. Xixa turned red-rimmed eyes up toward Julian. Her stomach turned leaden, lips trembling against her palm.

He leered down at her, frustration and hurt painted across his features. His eye darted around her face, taking in her puffy eyes, her saline-slicked cheeks, her reddened nose. When his gaze fell to her hand, still firmly clasped over her mouth, something in his face softened. Gently, his gloved hand lifted Xixa’s hand from her face.

His attention turned toward that extremity. Xixa glanced toward it, eyes catching on exactly what caught his attention. Four red crescents marred her palm, two oozing. He snagged her other hand in his gentle grip, finding four more bloody crescents. The apprentice looked away from his calculating expression, staring at his chest. Deep in the swirl of despondency, a little glimmer of delight and shame from his touch licked at her thoughts.

Julian momentarily released her hands from his grasp, though Xixa kept them up for him. They both knew what he had planned. He pulled his gloves off and dropped them to the floor, encasing her hands in his. His fingers gingerly nudged themselves between hers, his palms hot against hers. She squeezed his hands. Turning her tear-seared gaze to his face, Xixa ached to have more than their hands touch. Julian’s grey eye fixed on her face. A storm of emotions behind his expression. There was a warm softness, amid the pain and irritation and frustration, that struck the apprentice the hardest.

A new round of tears swelled in Xixa’s eyes. Beneath the collar of his coat, she could see the curse mark glow on his throat. The sizzle of magic nipped across her flesh. In seconds, her self-inflicted injuries jumped to Julian’s palms and faded.

They stayed like that for a breath. Their hands entwined, basking in such a minor touch and the beat of each others’ pulse. Julian was the one break the hold. He slid his hands from Xixa’s, bending to pick up his discarded gloves.

Xixa remained silent. The atmosphere still heavy and scented with magic. Her hand came up to her chest, rubbing against the dull throb beneath her sternum. Quietly, afraid to bring his attention to it, she whispered almost too soft to hear, “It still hurts.”

The doctor turned a startled look toward her. Maybe it was her voice or perhaps the thought of his curse no longer working properly. However, when Julian registered the sore spot Xixa rubbed, his shoulders sagged. With a hard swallow, he looked away from her and forced out, “I know. I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t help herself. Her hand drifted to his face, barely skirting her palm across his jawline. Electric delight slid down her arm, bursting into heat at her spine. The man closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch. Xixa knew she shouldn’t have done that. It just made things harder. She wanted to give in, though, wanted to coax him to stay. Or maybe just touch him until she was satisfied.

Which would be never.

“I…” Slowly, he opened his eye, staring owlishly at Xixa. Momentary temptation lit in his gaze. It was obvious he wanted to indulge, to savor what little touches they could eke out. Part of Xixa wanted him to give in. Award her with his kisses and touches and warmth. Make the pain dissipate under the heat of delight. Another part wanted him to stay strong, if only for his own sense of self-worth. A glassy sheen welled up in his eye as he pressed her hand back to her side. He could barely croak out, “I can’t stay.”

Numbness trickled over her. Too much energy, too many emotions, already spent… The apprentice couldn’t find the appropriate words. Heat daubed at the back of her eyes, but – for now – tears wouldn’t fall. She simply nodded glumly.

Julian didn’t move right away. He stared at her, opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut. With a shake of his head, he stepped away from Xixa. Distance, that’s what he wanted, Xixa gloomily watched him. Decisively, the doctor turned toward the door. Without another look back, determination propelling his feet forward, and the man left the shop.

Xixa’s heart shuddered, unhappily, as that damned bell chimed once more. This time, she knew Julian was gone. The magic shop felt colder and lonelier than ever.

Despite her personal misery, a small flare of pride for him heated her. She hoped, despite her heartache, Julian found some dignity for himself. The edge of her pain softened at that thought as she, very sloppily, closed shop.

 


End file.
